


Stop Ruining Autumn

by terminallyJudicious



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:05:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminallyJudicious/pseuds/terminallyJudicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe if he had let the piercing in his lip close up, maybe if he hadn't cracked through my fingers like dead leaves, he would still be holding my hand. But somehow, I don't think so. His hands are now too busy holding cigarettes, holding razors, letting go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Ruining Autumn

listen:

fall makes me think of leaves and of apple cider, though I never liked apple cider that much, but I liked the idea of it.

 

listen:

Two years ago I met a boy as fragile as dead leaves who called me his summer sunshine, even though I always liked autumn the best. He kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme.

But "everything good must come to an end," right?

 

listen:

On our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and I drew elephants on them for us to carve. He cut his out so aggressively that it lost its shape. Lopped off tusks and broken trunks became just a large, jagged hole. 

He put a lit candle inside, and we watched it flicker, illuminating the raw edges.

"What is it supposed to be?" I asked him, taking his hand.

"My heart," he said definitively,  
like an afterthought.

After that I was too afraid to carve my pumpkin at all.

 

listen:

The leaves changed, or maybe he changed, or maybe I was brave enough to carve that damn elephant on a faded pumpkin, weeks too late for halloween. (I screwed it up anyway, the elephant had three legs.)  
Maybe if he hadn't loved apple cider so much, if he had let the piercing in his lip close up, or if he hadn't cracked between my fingers like dead leaves, he would still be holding my hand.

Somehow I don't think so.  
his hands are now too busy holding cigarettes, holding razors, letting go.

 

listen:

He left a gallon of apple cider in my fridge. Maybe it's still there.

 

listen:

I kept my ruined pumpkin beneath my desk for a week and propped my feet up on it, but I could never bear to put a lit candle inside.

There is just something entirely too hopeful about watching broken things glow.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are confused about who is narrating it was meant to be ambiguous since it could potentially be either one of them. 
> 
> So phan, huh? Feels? All that peachy stuff? If that made you sad just imagine Dan and Phil's theoretical children learning how to play video games with their daddys. 
> 
> Hana out!
> 
> *throws glitter at you and wow I found this site that will send glitter to people you hate*


End file.
